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TheanswerstuckintheChancellor’sthroatashefetheEmperor’sgazeonhim.Itwasnearlyimpossibleforhimtohidehisemotionsfromtheotherman.“Rourans,YourMajesty,”hesaidatlast,thewordsbarelyawhisper.

Buttheywereloudenough.Awaveofshocksweptacrosstheroomasthescribesbegantowhisperamongthemselves.

TheEmperorignoredthem.“Wholeadsthem?”heasked.

“HecallshimselfB??riKhan,”theChancelloranswered.

“IkilledB??riKhan,”theEmperorsaid,hisvoicebeginningtosoundstrained.

“Hisson,YourMajesty.”

TheEmperorshookhishead.TheChancellorknewwhathewasthinking.Therewasnowaythatwaspossible.Howcouldachildofthemanhehadpersonallykilledmanagetoresurrectanentirearmy?HehadspentyearsworkingtomakesuretheRouranforceswouldneverriseagain.Hehadnearlylosthislifedozensoftimesandyetnowtheywereback?Heshookhisheadagain,strugglingtocontrolhisbreathing,whichwasstartingtogrowragged.“Theyweredestroyed,”hesaid,hisvoiceloud,thesoundechoingoffthewallsofthethroneroom.“Iaskagain:Howisitpossible?”

BeforetheChancellorcouldrespond,asmallvoiceroseup.Lookingoverinsurprise,theChancellorsawthatthelonesurvivorofthegarrisonattackhadgottentohisfeet.“Youmayspeak,”theChancellorsaidtotheguard.